#mystic messenger short

[killjoy-prince]

Saw a shirt I wanted to draw him in

[juminhandfs]

God knows I love Jumin's route and I think that is peak writing but, that man deserves a good ole slowburn, I'm talking about the type of crown fire you need to make pancakes 🥞

[password-door-lock]

Lately I can't stop thinking about sharing a bed with Saeran.

GE Saeran sleeps on his side (as evidenced by the CG where he’s sleeping on his side lol). If you also sleep on your side, then he probably wants to be the little spoon (unless you have a strong preference to the contrary, in which case the two of you can alternate) but if you sleep in the fetal position or something like that, then he's perfectly content being the big spoon, as well. If you sleep on your stomach or your back, then he'll curl up against you with an arm draped over you. The most important thing for him is being close to you, and he can be flexible as far as what that looks like. I do think that if you end up as the little spoon at night due to your sleeping position, you'll probably end up as the big spoon a lot more when the two of you cuddle during the day. Also, the shark plushie is going to be present while the two of you are resting— if he's holding you, Saeran probably won't be able to also hold onto the shark, but it'll still be in the same bed. Maybe you might even be the one to hold onto it some nights! Although physical touch is something he really enjoys, if you’re not feeling up to it for whatever reason, Saeran totally understands! He might elect to wear one of your sweatshirts to bed instead (and let you wear one of his if you’d like to) or cuddle with one of your plushies. Ultimately, what’s most important to him is that both of you feel safe and comfortable while you get the rest that you need. He likes having two or three really plush pillows and only minimal blankets, since he doesn’t get cold easily during the night— he probably won’t even notice it if you steal the covers from him in your sleep. Even though Saeran wakes up occasionally in the middle of the night, he doesn't worry about it too much. He knows that he's still getting rest as long as he's laying there, even if he isn't technically asleep, and of course, he cherishes the time with you.

Ray also sleeps on his side, but unlike GE Saeran, he's very, very nervous about accidentally upsetting you or unknowingly crossing your boundaries. He’s new to this, and he can’t imagine that you would actually want him that close to you. Even if you tell him it's okay, Ray probably wouldn't want to initiate any physical contact at first, though of course, he daydreams about holding you close. He'd probably stay securely on his own side of the bed, taking care not to bother you in any way as he falls asleep watching you rest— he’ll allow himself to turn to face you. To him, being able to look your way while he falls asleep is pure heaven. If you don’t want to be touched, Ray totally understands that— the last thing he wants is to cross your boundaries, and besides, he’s happy enough just seeing that you’re resting well. If, however, the two of you have been together longer and gotten more comfortable sharing a bed, then he'll be over the moon to cuddle up with you if you’d like. Ray really likes being held— if you sleep on your back, he'll rest his head on your chest. If you sleep on your stomach, he might try sleeping on his stomach, too, and you can drape your arm around him. If you sleep on your side, he wants to be the little spoon. If you sleep in the fetal position, he'll probably figure out some creative contortion that allows him to be held by you all night. But, of course, if you'd prefer to be held instead, then he'd be happy to do that sometimes, too! He doesn’t really like to be under the covers at all, and he’s not used to using a pillow, so he doesn’t have any very specific pillow preferences. Although his body won’t let him sleep for more than three hours straight (he has nightmares, and his circadian rhythms are skewed anyway), he’s worried about waking you up, so he’ll stay with you for as long as he’s able to justify putting off his work, even if he can’t fall back asleep. 

Suit sleeps on his back. It's the way that he feels the safest— he's able to look around the room and see everything as he's falling asleep and if he's woken up. If, for some reason, you find yourself falling asleep in the same bed as him before his apology (which is very unlikely), it will likely be your idea. First, he’ll laugh at you for even suggesting something like that, and then, if he decides to humor you, he'll probably just pose you on your side, curled up against him, with his arm around you possessively. It doesn't matter how you normally sleep— you're his toy, and he's already being very generous by letting you rest in the first place. He sees sleeping when one could be working as a sign of weakness, so he’ll probably do his best to stay up even if you fall asleep in this position, and he may even taunt you for being so clueless as to show him such a vulnerable side of yourself. In actuality, he has no idea what to do once you’re actually beside him, and he might end up getting frustrated and pushing you away. However, after his apology, he'd be even more nervous and awkward than Ray— but Suit, too, ultimately does like to be held. He'd let you curl up next to him with his arm around you, rest your head on his chest, or even lean against him, depending on how you’re the most comfortable. Even if he can’t understand why on Earth you would even want to cuddle up with somebody like him, he has no intention of causing you any more discomfort or pain. If you're a stomach sleeper, though, he might end up with his arm at an awkward angle all night to accommodate you, so be warned and adjust accordingly! That being said, if you’re not someone who enjoys physical touch, the last thing he wants to do is cross your boundaries again! As much as he likes being held, he'll be just as content to lay beside you without touching and listen to your calm breathing as you sleep. He likes firm pillows, and he feels much more secure laying on top of the covers in his suit than snuggling up under them in flimsy pajamas. He’s too hyper-vigilant at Magenta to fall asleep easily, but he’ll set an alarm for one hour just in case he does manage to drift off for a bit. Whether he’s taking a break from hacking the messenger or hiding from the believers, Suit does not have time to lay around with you forever. 

Unknown doesn't really like to sleep very much. Sometimes, he falls asleep at his desk— whether you happen to be sitting on his lap or not. He doesn’t care at all about his own comfort— the only reason he ever sleeps is because his body is forcing him to, and the way he sees it, a stiff neck is worth it if it gets him even a little bit closer to his revenge. The rest of the time, he uses the couch that's been brought into the intelligence room so that he doesn't have to waste time walking to his room and back during the night. On those nights, neither one of you has many options other than to sleep on your side— Unknown likes to have you facing him, with your head resting against his chest. Pressing you close to him like that gives him a weird sense of comfort that he can’t really explain. Besides, he doesn’t like the idea of you looking at his monitors while he’s asleep if you lay facing away from him, so he tells himself that it's not like he really has a choice. If the two of you actually end up in a bed, then that means he's too exhausted to argue that it's a waste of time— he might end up sprawled across the mattress however he falls on it, taking up most of the available space and leaving you to slide in wherever and however you'll fit. It’s been so long since he’s had a proper night’s sleep in a proper bed that he’s probably going to be a bit awkward about it. If he's awake enough, he'll pull you close and hold onto you for more of that strange comfort, but he might be too tired even for that. If you don’t want to be touched, there’s a really simple solution for that— you can just sleep at a different time from him, or in a different location, and he’ll give you work to do while his body is forcing him to rest. He doesn’t care where or how or if you sleep— he just cares that you’re getting your work done, or so he claims, at least. He doesn’t see any point in using pillows or blankets when he can sleep just fine without them, and he honestly thinks you’re kind of spoiled for wanting things like that. Because he regularly pushes his body to the limit, when he does allow himself to rest, he sleeps very heavily for a fairly long time. If you’re in his grip, then you’re not getting out of it anytime soon, and otherwise, you’d best leave him alone. 

SE Saeran also sleeps on his back, and his thoughts on sharing a bed are... complicated. He likes to be close to you, but he often has nightmares, and he knows that he kicks sometimes in his sleep. You’d have to be very, very close to him for Saeran to allow you to see him in such a vulnerable position, and even then, he’d still be nervous about inadvertently doing you harm. After all, he’s tried sleeping with plushies before, and he always wakes up to find that he’s thrown them onto the floor during the night. What if he pushes you off the bed or something? What if he lashes out, erroneously thinking that you’re one of the monsters from his past? The first couple of times you stay over, he doesn't sleep at all— he just lays beside you, feeling calmed by your peaceful breathing, even if he's anxious. Then, after that, he'll try out sleeping with you in the same bed but not touching him at all, and when he finds that he doesn't accidentally kick or elbow you in his sleep, he'll start to feel more comfortable with the idea of getting closer. Sometimes, he’s content to fall asleep in your embrace, whatever that might look like. Sometimes, he wants to cuddle with you for a while before separating to sleep on separate sides of the bed. Sometimes, though, he might decide that he doesn’t want to be touched at all, and the two of you might stay on opposite ends of the bed all night, or you’ll go home early and video call him from your own bed, instead. Naturally, on nights when you have similar issues, Saeran will be just as accommodating. He’s not picky about pillows, but he’s strongly opposed to having any kind of covers over him, and he often sleeps with a fan because he feels like the bunker is too hot. If you like having lots of blankets, he’ll keep them in his room for you, but the pair of you will have to work something out to ensure that he doesn’t get too hot during the night. Sometimes he gets up in the middle of the night, but he’s always sure to be extra careful when getting in and out of bed so that he doesn’t disturb your rest.

[starlightlillie]

Deserving.

Saeyoung x Reader Reassuring Fluff for our boy Word count: 685

Thanks for reading xx

The garage lights flickered as MC pushed open the door, letting a sliver of warm light spill across the cold concrete floor. Saeyoung’s silhouette sat hunched over his workbench, a mess of tangled wires and electronic components scattered in front of him like a mechanical jigsaw puzzle. He hadn’t noticed them yet, absorbed in whatever gadget he was meticulously piecing together.

They watched him for a moment, debating whether to disturb him. The room felt heavy with unspoken thoughts, the air saturated with quiet hums and the soft murmur of him talking alone. The rare moments when Saeyoung wasn’t deflecting with jokes and laughter revealed a different side of him, one that was achingly vulnerable and profoundly... human.

MC took a breath, walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He started and turned to look at them, his signature smile instantly shining, though his eyes were tired.

"Ahh, MC! I didn’t hear you come in," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I must be getting rusty!”

MC took a seat beside him, offering a bag of chips they’d brought along. "Late night project, huh?”

He nodded, popping a chip into his mouth as he returned his gaze to his work. "I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d work on this… prototype I’ve been messing with." He hesitated, glancing at them before returning to his project. “It’s nothing big. Just… something to keep me busy.”

MC settled in, sensing the unspoken weight in his words. They’d grown to recognize the moments when Saeyoung’s laughter and chaos were this mask he wore to deflect from the deeper fears and regrets that ate him alive most of the time. Tonight was one of those nights, they could feel it.

"You know," MC began softly, "you don’t have to keep it all in, Saeyoung. I’m here, you know… if you ever want to talk about it."

He stayed quiet, the only sounds coming from the gentle clinking of tools against metal. After a moment, he put down his screwdriver and looked at them, his usual boldness softened.

"Sometimes I think…" He paused, his fingers drumming against the table. "Sometimes I think I’ll never really escape it.... everything that’s happened, everything I’ve done." His voice was barely a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make it hurt more. "It’s like… even in the quiet moments, it’s there, waiting... I feel like.. all this could just... fade through my fingers."

MC reached over, their hand finding his in the dim light. They squeezed gently, hoping to ground him.

"You’re not alone in this, Saeyoung," they said, their voice steady but gentle. "You have me, and you have all of us. You don’t have to carry this by yourself. None of us is gonna leave."

He looked at them, searching their face, as though trying to find proof that they meant it. Then, something in his expression shifted, a mixture of relief and sadness, and he turned away, rubbing his eyes quickly.

"I… I know that," he murmured. "It’s just… hard. Sometimes it’s hard to believe I even deserve this." He chuckled, a soft, broken sound. "Who would’ve thought I’d be having an emotional breakdown over potato chips and circuit boards, huh?"

They laughed quietly, nudging his shoulder. "There are worse places to have one."

For a while, they sat together in companionable silence, the weight between them slowly lifting. Saeyoung picked up his screwdriver again, but his movements were slower, more deliberate, as though he was allowing himself to relax.

"Thank you," he said suddenly, his voice soft. "I don’t say that enough, do I?"

MC smiled. "You say it when it counts. That’s all that matters."

They stayed with him until he finished the prototype, sharing quiet conversations and snacks, each moment stitching them closer together. In the dim, flickering light of the garage, Saeyoung let his guard down, even if only a little, and allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that they were right… he wasn’t alone, perhaps it was okay to enjoy this. At least for that night. 

[introverted-scribblings]

Cosplay || (Yoosung x Reader)

This was initially self-indulgent but I loved it so much that I'm sharing it here. I hope you all like it! This (can be) connected to my "seamstress MC" headcanons.

Notes: Fem!MC (w/ implied brown hair) and a love for the Legend of Zelda series. (wc: 1558)

“I totally don’t believe you,” one of his guildmates laughed through through the game’s voice chat. Yoosung couldn’t help the frown on his face and roll of his eyes.

Some of his online friends, the ones he met through LOLOL, refused to believe that he had a girlfriend now. However, in their defense, sometimes Yoosung himself found it hard to believe that MC was dating him. Of course, MC would flick his forehead and kiss his nose every time he told her this. “Hush, Yoosungie! I’m proud to be your girlfriend, okay? I love you so much!” She would pout.

This particular time, however, the disbelief was strengthened by Yoosung’s comment that MC wanted to cosplay with him. Apparently, the fact that MC shared common nerdy interests with him was “proof” that his girlfriend was fictional. “You’re just jealous,” he scoffed into his mic.

“Yeah, sure,” his friend laughed. “I’m jealous that you have such a wild imagination.”

Yoosung’s brow furrowed in frustration.

“Hey, someone is starting a raid!” Another teammate called out and the subject quickly changed.

It was a while later when Yoosung finally logged off, hanging his headphones on the little stand that MC had gifted him. “To keep them nice and the cord untangled!” she had told him.

Standing and stretching, Yoosung found himself walking to the little kitchen in his apartment where he found his wonderful girlfriend heating water for tea. “Yoosung,” she smiled when she saw the blonde enter. “Are you done for now? Would you like some tea too?”

“Sure! And yeah, I’m done for today I think. One of my guildmates was being annoying,” he sighed, causing MC to giggle.

“Do they still think I’m made up?” She laughed. Yoosung only pouted. He had complained about this to her before, and while she found it a little funny it was clear that he was feeling particularly upset about it this time. “Hey…” Her voice softened as she set another cup on the counter for him. “It’s okay, Yoosungie. I promise I’m very real and really in love with you~”

Yoosung could feel his cheeks burn. He couldn’t help it whenever MC said those things. “I know,” he sighed, watching her pour the boiling water into their two mugs. “It just bothered me this time because I told them you wanted to cosplay with me…” he trailed off but MC motioned for him to continue. “They said I was making it up because there’s no way I could get a girlfriend who has interests like that.”

MC scoffed. “Well that’s pretty rude,” she tutted. “They’re just jealous, Yoosung. Next time, I’ll get on the mic and chew them out!”

Yoosung laughed at the adorable pout his girlfriend wore. “It’s okay, MC. You’re right, I shouldn’t let them bother me. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”

MC smiled. “Exactly! By the way…” she pulled her phone from her pocket and opened it up. “I’ve decided who we should cosplay!” Turning the device, MC showed him a picture of the two characters she chose.

Yoosung recognized them of course. It was the green-clad hero, Link, and princess of Hyrule, Zelda. Though he didn’t play the games himself, he was aware that MC did and was a big fan of them. He’s listened to her talk about the games for hours, going into their lore and real life history. She was always so excited when she spoke about them, and he lived for the passionate sparkle in her eyes as she did.

“I thought Zelda had blonde hair…” he questioned. Not that he minded the choice, of course, he would happily be the hero to his princess.

“She does normally, but in the game Twilight Princess she’s a brunette,” MC explained with a grin. “Please, Yoosungie? You would make such a handsome Link and I’ve wanted to cosplay Zelda for so long! Please~?”

Yoosung’s blush came back tenfold at MC’s words. Would he make a handsome Link? He wasn’t sure but MC certainly thought so. Still, he’d already made his decision when she asked the first time if he would cosplay with her. “Of course, MC! I already said I’d dress as anything with you,” he chuckled, trying to ignore his burning cheeks.

“I know, but I want you to have fun too,” she said, tucking away her phone.

“I know I will,” Yoosung smiled. “I’m happy to be your hero, MC.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and she giggled.

“Thank you, honey~” MC turned back to their mugs of tea. “Go sit down and I’ll bring you your cup, then I’ll give you a crash course on cosplay.”

*~*~*~*

MC spent the next two months working on their costumes. Ordering pieces, buying cuts of fabric, stitching and restitching hems. The late nights Yoosung spent gaming, MC spent at her sewing machine. There were fittings and pinnings and measurements taken.

Yoosung couldn’t possibly be more impressed that MC was able to craft two intricate and detailed costumes in the short span of two months. Though he really shouldn’t be surprised, she managed to plan a big and successful party in only eleven days. She was a determined worker for sure and a true inspiration to him.

And when the costumes were finally ready, she asked him if he’d be willing to do a photoshoot with her. “My friend is studying photography and agreed to take pictures of us if she’s allowed to use some for her project,” she explained. “And I would love to get some nice pictures of us together!”

How could Yoosung possibly say no? He couldn’t. And he wouldn’t, certainly not after all her hard work. She was even loaning him her replica Master Sword for the photos! There’s no way he would turn this down. Not in a million years.

The day of the shoot came. MC’s friend was picking them up and taking them to a location they had scouted beforehand. As Yoosung got dressed in the handmade tunic, he felt a flurry of nerves in his chest. He hoped he would look good in the cosplay that MC had spent literal months on. With a deep breath, he looked in the mirror.

He never noticed it before, but with the pointed ears and colored prescription contacts that MC had gotten him, he really looked the spitting image of the hero of Hyrule. Twisting and turning, Yoosung tried to get a good look at himself from various angles. MC truly was a master when it came to sewing.

“Knock knock~” MC called from behind his bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Oh- Yeah! You can!” he called back.

Yoosung could feel the breath leave his lungs when he saw her.

If his tunic was well made, MC’s dress was absolutely perfect. “Wow…” he whispered. The crown on her brow shone like real gold, the delicate embroidery that ran along her dress gave her a subtle elegance as she moved towards him. Her hands, covered in long white gloves, held the sheathed replica sword. “I was right,” she smiled. “You do make a very handsome Link.”

Yoosung blushed and looked away, her beauty and compliments too much for him to handle. “Th-thank you… You’re a very beautiful Princess Zelda…” He wanted to say so much more. That she was the most stunning person in the world. That her beauty was there in and out of cosplay. That seeing her like this was enough to make his knees weak and his heart race.

MC smiled. “Thank you,” she giggled. “Here, it’s dangerous to go alone…” she placed the sword in his hands. “...take this!”

Yoosung laughed along with her at the spoken line before her phone chimed from her bag on his floor. “Oh!” she grinned. “That must be our ride! Let’s go take some pictures, Yoosungie~” Picking up her bag, she took his free hand and tugged him out of the room.

*~*~*~*

It was a few days later when MC’s friend sent her the polished up photos. Yoosung was in awe of how nice they looked. It truly looked as if they stepped out of the game itself and into the real world.

Among the poses they had done, there were a few candid shots that were taken that day. Including one of their gentle embrace after MC had fixed his hat, their eyes were closed and their foreheads rested against each other. They were smiling. Yoosung remembered that moment well, all the love he had in his heart for MC as she introduced him to something so fun. Something she was so passionate about that she wanted to share with him.

It was clear that MC remembered it too as that picture ended up as her phone wallpaper after she had sent it to the RFA chat. Everyone was impressed, even Jumin said something nice… well, as nice as Jumin could be.

Yoosung was very happy. Happy that he could do something so fun with his girlfriend. Happy that the pictures looked so nice. Happy that their friends liked the pictures. Happy that MC had fun. And of course…Happy to make his guildmates eat crow when he sent some of their pictures. Including a cute—maybe a little smug—picture of MC showing off her wallpaper of the two of them. His girlfriend was very real and very cool.

[brighteststar707]

Words of Affirmation

✦ Written for Jumin Week 2023

✦ Jumin x Reader

✦ Words: 545

There is a comfortable silence in the car on the ride back home after tonight’s RFA charity party. It's already late, the streets are dark, and the car feels like a world of its own. Your hand is in Jumin's, resting on the middle seat. His eyes are on you, that much you can feel, though you're taking your time to meet his gaze. There's an intensity there, the product of the post-party buzz and the wine that had been passed around. You can't imagine what he's thinking about, but you don’t expect you’ll have to wait long to find out. He is always talkative after events, especially if they went well.  

You haven't spoken since greeting Driver Kim. You’re still processing the events of the night. All the guests you greeted, so many new people you had been talking to for months through emails. The hall, glittering and magical, the music filling the room and boosting everyone’s energy. The high donation numbers, the pride in Jaehee’s voice as she thanked everyone for their generous support. Jumin leading you in a dance around the dance floor, elegant and practiced in his movements. All your friends, together in one place, in a good mood and enjoying each other’s company.

You watch the city slip past your window for a little while, before turning your attention to Jumin. You know how much he enjoys the RFA party days. He has been kept busy with planning for weeks leading up to the event, so you know he must be pleased that it all worked out so well.

“It went well tonight, didn’t it?” You ask.

“It did. I’m very pleased with how it all turned out,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You were stunning tonight, darling. You really outdid yourself.” You can't make out his expression properly, but the passing lights outside make his dark eyes glimmer. There is deep affection in is voice.

“I couldn't have done it without you all there to help me,” you reply. “You worked so hard to help our visions come to life. Not to mention all the guests who were invited at your recommendation.”

“And yet, in that hall, you were all everyone could look at and talk about. It was an honor just to be by your side.”

You feel the heat rush to your face. If he senses you getting flustered, he doesn’t let on, he still has more to say.

“You have no idea how proud you make me. To think that you came to us by chance just a few years ago and you're now guiding us to new heights,” he muses.

Jumin has never hidden his feelings for you, but he has also never been one to believe in empty praise. You know he means every word, and that only makes your heart swell more.

You lean over to him to kiss his cheek.

“It sounds like the party has made you sentimental, love.”

He chuckles, “maybe it has, but I mean every word I’m saying. The RFA is lucky to have you and I am luckier still.”

“That makes me the luckiest of us all, doesn’t it?” You reply.

And after a night like tonight, you really believe it.

[reifromrfa]

Short fic: Mafia AU | Jumin

I saw this artwork by @ranartinart and got inspired to write something short for my love, Jumin Han ;w; Thank you for your lovely art! :)

Reposted with permission from @ranartinart <3 Check it out here!

Wrote this fic while listening to this playlist ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

Trigger Warning: Violence

Story under the cut! This was purely self-indulgent haha! I feel as though I'm a little rusty with mysme so apologies in advance if it feels ooc ^^;; Enjoy~

★・・・・・・★

His precise steps against the marbled floor echo through the hallway. He isn't in a hurry; in fact, he takes his time, allowing the rage to bubble up inside him. He keeps his expression composed though, his head held high, his cold, steely eyes staring straight ahead, at the door on the end of the hallway.

Men and women bow to him as he passes, all of them avoiding his gaze. Finally, he reaches the door and his men open the door for him. Assistant Kang sees the man kneeling in the middle of the room, a few bruises already visible on his face and arms. She feels no pity for him, especially after he'd attempted to kidnap MC. Though MC was unharmed, Jaehee knows that this man will probably die here tonight. Honestly, he had a far better chance of surviving had he attempted to kill her boss, the mafia king of South Korea. But attacking his wife? His queen?

Jaehee looks at him with disdain as Jumin hands her his coat.

"Good riddance," she thinks to herself, turning on her heel. She makes a small gesture and the guards in the room follow her out, leaving Jumin alone with the man.

Jumin carefully folds his sleeves up, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes. The man glares at him, his hands bound behind his back.

"You motherfucker. You can't keep me here! They're gonna come lookin' for me! And when they do, they're gonna take you down, you bastard! You'll see. You're gonna be fucking sorry!" the man spits out, staring hatefully at Jumin.

Jumin arches a brow, continuing to fold his sleeves on his other arm. His voice is calm, low, as though he's having a casual conversation and not being threatened by this piece of scum. "Oh? I'd like to see them try."

The man becomes angrier, as though Jumin’s calm facade is somehow an insult to him. “Don’t you fucking know who I am, huh? I am—”

“You are irrelevant to me,” Jumin interrupts, crossing his arms as he looks down on the man. His expression darkens as he studies the lowlife who dared to touch his MC. Who dared to even breathe the same air as her. “I do not need to know your name, I do not need to know who you are, what you’re worth. All I need to know is this:

You meant to harm my wife.”

Jumin watches as a small smile appears on the man’s face. His jaw clenches as he holds himself back. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet.

“Your wife? MC? Yeah, she’s a real beauty. I remember those scared cries she made when I grabbed her. I bet she sounds real good in bed, huh? I bet—”

The man never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he has a split second to widen his eyes before Jumin’s fist collides with his jaw. The man hears a crack but it’s quickly forgotten as pain shoots up his cheek, his jaw. His head whips harshly to one side and he tastes blood in his mouth.

Jumin grits his teeth and grabs the man by his hair, forcing him to face Jumin again.

“How dare you talk about my wife that way. How dare you even utter her name with that filthy mouth of yours. You have no right to even walk in the places her feet have touched. You have no right to breathe the air she breathes. You have no right at all to LIVE in the world she exists in.”

The man attempts to scowl but it turns into an ugly grimace, his jaw throbbing. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna fuck her and make you watch, you sonovabitch!” He’s about to spit at Jumin Han’s face when Jumin releases his hair and hits him with an uppercut, effectively slamming his teeth together. Jumin steps back and watches as the man chokes on his own spit, violent coughs making his shoulders heave. Blood starts to trickle down the side of his lips, down his chin; to Jumin, that vermin’s blood is like coal that fuels the deep loathing he feels towards said vermin. He wants more, more of the man’s blood to spill until he is on the brink of death.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think that highly of your comrades? Do you think they would come for you…at the risk of becoming my enemy?” Jumin lets out a mirthless chuckle.

“You’re sorely mistaken.

No one is coming to save you.”

“Think of it like this…” Jumin yanks on the man’s hair again, pulling him to his feet. He leans closer. In a low, soft voice, he speaks to the man —like Death’s whisper to a dying soul.

“You’re dead to them. In fact…you’re dead to everyone. There’s not a person who would want to be affiliated with you now. There’s not a single soul who will even speak your name anymore. Because if they do, I will not only obliterate every trace of their existence from the world, I will also ensure that their life becomes a living hell. They will spend every waking moment in a dark cell, suffering, praying they were dead, and every time they close their eyes they will be plagued with nightmares of the pitiful, painful, pathetic life ahead of them.”

The man struggles to remain upright, his hands still bound behind his back as blood starts to soak the front of his shirt. A muscle in Jumin’s jaw twitches as he stares at the hideous expression on the man’s face.

“You asked me if I knew who you are? Yes, I know who you are. I also know where you parents are, your sister and her family, even the bastard son you’re hiding from your employer.” At his words, Jumin sees the man’s face pale. “Here, we place a high value on family. That’s why I sought to learn about your family.”

“If you fucking touch them, I fucking swear I’ll—”

“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Jumin’s eyes flash and his lips curl in a small, taunting smirk. “That’s what you should have done. You should have killed me instead of going after my wife.���

Jumin approaches the man and now, he sees the man take a small step back.

“You’re only fucking cocky ‘coz you’re beating up a defenseless man! You think this is a fair fight?!”

“Fair?” Jumin’s eyebrow arches. “Fair?” He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking at the man in disbelief.

“Why would I stoop to your level and make this fair?”

He takes another step towards the man and the man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back.

“I was born with every advantage…why wouldn’t I use them? To, as you put it, ‘make this fair’? Why? You certainly thought it was fair to take advantage of a woman who’s smaller than you…and now you call me ‘cocky’ for beating you while your hands are bound?”

Jumin closes the gap between them and delivers a swift punch to the man’s solar plexus. The man chokes and gasps for air, wheezing as Jumin throws another punch…and then another.

The man feels his knees buckle as his body topples forward. But before he can even fall, Jumin grabs his shoulders and pushes the man down at the same time raising his knee and driving it further on the same spot.

“Get this through your thick head,” Jumin says vehemently, now letting his anger take over. Gone is his composure, all he can see now is this man stalking his wife, touching her, laughing at her horrified expression, thinking about the terrible things he’d do to MC…all because she’s Jumin’s queen.

“Life will never be fair.” Jumin keeps his grip on the man, not giving him a chance to straighten. He slams his knee against the man’s abdomen and now he can hear the man wheezing hard, his gasps turning raspy, desperate.

“You and I will never be on the same level.”

“P-lea—”

Jumin scowls at the man. He dares try to interrupt Jumin? Jumin takes a slight step back before slamming the man’s face down on his knee.

“Shut up. You don’t even deserve to be talking. I’ll have your tongue cut out…eventually.”

Jumin releases the man and he falls to the ground like a pathetic rag doll. The man is still wheezing, taking in short, quick breaths. Jumin watches him struggle to breathe, a rush of satisfaction filling him as he sees the man’s bloody face, his nose broken, his lip busted, his eyes swollen and drooping.

But still, this will never be enough. There’s never a good enough punishment for someone who has ill intentions towards Jumin Han’s family. Especially his Queen.

Jumin uses the front of his shoe to push the man onto his back. The man’s wide eyes dart to Jumin as he starts to choke on his own blood. But Jumin merely places a foot on his chest and leans forward, putting all his weight on the foot that’s right over the man’s lungs.

“Now…I’ve established that I know you. But…

Do you know who I am?”

Jumin’s steely gaze never leaves the man’s face, his icy expression showing no hints of mercy. In fact, he leans forward more, pressing his foot deeper.

”I am Jumin Han. I am the most powerful man in Asia.

From now on, your life is in MY hands. If you breathe it is because I’m letting you breathe. But don’t worry, I assure you, breathing will be a luxury for you. Like I said before, I was born with every advantage at my fingertips.

I intend to use my power to make your life into something far worse than the hell you’ve imagined.

About your family…I won’t hurt them. Yet. It all depends on whether you cooperate or not. You may think this is a sick, cruel game…I want to assure you yet again that yes, this is my sick, twisted game for simpletons with a death wish.”

The man’s face is turning purple as he desperately opens his mouth to try to get air into his lungs. Jumin just stares at him for a few seconds, watching the red lines creeping into the man’s eyes. Jumin eases his foot over the man’s lungs and he waits until the man intakes a couple of short breaths before pushing against his chest again.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, turning me into your enemy…but now I’ll be more than that. I’ll be the demon that haunts your every move. I’ll be your personal Grim Reaper, collecting blood and instilling fear in you.

Every day.

For the rest of your meaningless existence.”

Jumin lifts his foot from the man’s chest and he gazes down at his work. The man has tears flowing down the sides of his face, bruises and cuts all over his body —at least, the parts that Jumin can see. Jumin is sure the man has a cracked rib or two as well.

To him, this punishment is still nothing compared to the trauma this pathetic idiot instilled in MC. But he’ll have to stop for now; he doesn’t want the man to die that same night. No…Jumin wants him to live a long, miserable life.

Without another word, Jumin heads for the door, where Assistant Kang is already waiting with a towel in her hands. Jumin takes it, wiping away the man’s blood from his hands.

“I want him looked at but make sure he’s bound tightly. Only patch up the wounds that are fatal. Then transfer him to our warehouse, put him in a coffin and make him think he’s going to be buried alive; I trust you’ll oversee this, Assistant Kang?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll send you a recording afterwards.”

“Good. He can stay there for the evening, but make sure to check the CCTVs in the coffin every now and then. I want him to live for a long time. In the morning, move him to a cell and only give him water. No food, no lights, no toilets, no requests. I’ll call you with further instructions tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

The guards around Jaehee reply in a rush, the menacing aura Jumin is exuding, scaring even them. Jaehee waves the guards towards the man and they get to work.

“Oh, and Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee turns to her boss, watching him holding the blood-stained towel. She never thought she’d be working for the most powerful man in the continent, but she’s also grateful that she is. There’s no mercy in Jaehee’s heart towards the man who could have taken someone precious from them, and she’s glad her boss can inflict the most damning punishment onto that man.

“Yes, Mr. Han?”

“Make sure that man or anyone affiliated with him will never get anywhere close to my wife. If they do, kill them. I want all our men to know that.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. I’ll leave this to you, then. Have a pleasant evening, Assistant Kang.”

Jaehee watches him go, as though he didn’t just nearly beat a man to death. But at the end of the day, they’re all just pawns on Jumin’s chessboard.

She pities any fool who dares to take on the king and his queen.

★・・・・・・★

I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading <3 Don't forget to follow @ranartinart too <3

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

[tiresomeimagination]

I’m learning Spanish right now so I’ve been thinking a lot about the wacky ways Saeyoung would probably try to help you improve your language skills. In this context, italicized dialogue means it’s being spoken in the target/foreign language! Also the small marked off section is supposed to imply it’s over the messenger. Anyways, this was just a short silly idea I had lolol.

~~~~~

"What'cha working on there?"

came the voice of your boyfriend as he peered over your shoulder to catch a peek at what you seemed so involved in studying at the table.

You chuckled as his fiery curls entered the edge of your vision and you felt him leaning against you. "I've just got to get through this next chapter," you explained, lifting your textbook and turning it so he could read the title. You were taking a foreign language class and it was already so much to remember.

His face lit up at the sight of the title, recognizing the language immediately. "Oh! I know that one! it's pretty easy once you practice it enough."

"Yeah... it's just tough to keep up with the practice I guess..." You groaned, rubbing your face tiredly.

He hummed in thought, absentmindedly resting his hand on your shoulder. "hmm... how about I give you a hand?"

"Uh... well, I guess it would help to drill some stuff with somebody. I'll have a test coming up soon and I'm not sure if I'm ready…" you admitted, assuming he was offering to go through flashcards with you or something.

He gave you a confident grin. "Oh don't worry! You'll be acing your tests in no time after we're done!"

If you had known what he really meant by this, you probably wouldn't have accepted his interference so readily. But it was too late. The gears were already turning and he knew exactly what he was going to do to help you.

You didn't notice the change right away. You got up the next morning and went through your usual routine. It wasn't until you opened the fridge and pulled out a drink that you spotted something so strange you had to do a double take. 

The label was in a different language.

"...What…??" You breathed out, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening. You pulled out a different bottle from the fridge, eyes widening as you found its label had also changed languages.

After a few minutes of rummaging through the cabinets, you realized just about everything had been relabeled in your target language. Once you reassured yourself that you had not gone crazy in your sleep, you came to the conclusion that only one person could be responsible for pulling off something of this scale.

"Saeyoung!!" You called out.

It wasn't long before the culprit in question came strolling in at your call. "Yesss, my honey?" he greeted you casually, and it took you a moment to register that he was speaking your target language.

"Saeyoung, what in the world is going on??" You huffed.

"Immersion really is one of the best learning tools, Y/N. Trust me, I had to pick up a lot of languages on pretty short notice with the agency," he explained, shrugging.

You frowned, brows furrowing. "I understood next to none of that." You grumbled unhappily, hoping he would get the idea and go back to talking normally.

Instead he just laughed, ruffling your hair teasingly. "You'll get the hang of it!"

Oh you were going to kill him.

— — — —

[Jaehee] "I can't help but notice that Y/N has been speaking strangely in the messenger today."

[Yoosung] "I noticed that too! I wonder if their phone keyboard is broken."

[Y/N] "Help!! Saeyoung change me messenger. Language stuck!! No use good T-T"

[Jaehee] "...I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't understand what you're trying to say. There's something wrong with your copy of the messenger?"

[707] "Don't worry, they're fine lolol. They're just using a special version today."

[Y/N] "fix language set!! >:( no more help;;"

[707] "You're doing great, honey! ^^"

— — — —

You tossed your phone aside with an aggravated groan. Your entire version of the RFA messenger had been switched to your target language, but only on your end. Part of you couldn't help but admire the effort Saeyoung must have put into all of this…but that didn't change the fact that it wasn't exactly the kind of studying you had in mind.

"Aww, is my grumpy little kitty getting tired?" You heard Saeyoung coo from his place beside you on the couch as he wrapped an arm around you.

You just pouted at him, your brain too tired to try decoding all his words.

He chuckled at your expression, leaning in closer. "You did really good today. But of course I already knew my 606 was smart, hehe..." he breathed out softly, finally speaking normally again, much to your relief.

You couldn't stop the bashful smile that spread across your face at his gentle teasing and tender praise.

Your flustered look only spurred him on. He slid closer and leaned towards your ear, slipping effortlessly back into your target language and whispering, "There aren't enough languages in the world to tell you how you make me feel, you know. I love you, agent 606~"

You shivered slightly at the feeling of his breath, recognizing at least one particular phrase in that. Before you could form a coherent response, he brought his lips to yours in a gesture that needed no translation. Maybe his way wasn’t so bad after all if you got rewards like this.

[pastelsapphy]

in vae saeyoung says he wanted to gather everyone responsible for what happened to Saeran--himself, rika, and V--in one place. he doesn't say what he planned to do, but it's easy to guess--saeyoung is a man of fury and vengeance. the only thing that stops him from killing rika is the thought that saeran wouldn't want him to. but I wondered what his plan was, if he had one. what was he going to do if he'd dragged V to that cabin too?

Immediately, I was struck with the mental image of Saeyoung setting the cabin ablaze with the three of them inside. Saeran perished in fire because of them; it's only fair. And if Saeyoung's going to hell, he's going to make damn sure he drags them both down with him

[rfaromance]

'She's staring.'

Saeran didn't need to look at the other end of the couch to know that his sister-in-law's attention was on him. He had long grown accustomed to the feeling of knowing when someone was watching him.

Whether that someone had been his mother, his false "Savior", or believers watching in fear and awe, he had needed to learn this skill as a means of survival.

This woman... was by far the least subtle of any of them.

Saeran didn't like being gawked at, under any circumstances. His fight or flight instinct always kicked in, no matter how much he tried to keep himself calm.

As calm as he could be these days, anyway.

More irritating, in his point of view, was the fact that she couldn't commit to staring. She'd glance over at him, then her gaze would shift back to her phone. A moment later he'd feel her eyes burning into his skin again, but they'd leave him before he could snap at her.

If she had something to say, couldn't she just say it? Did she hate his hair, which had fully grown into a mop of crimson, because now it wouldn't allow her to forget that he was Saeyoung's twin? Did she want to criticize the bags under his eyes because he hadn't slept properly since... well, since they'd forcibly knocked him out in the hospital? Did she tremble at the sight of his scabby, cracked knuckles, because no matter how raw and red he rubbed his hands he could never wash the blood off?

Just as he was about to call her out on her obnoxious, clumsy ogling, she spoke up.

"Saeran?" Ariella began cautiously. "May I... sit behind you, for a moment?"

He hated how she had the ability to constantly surprise him.

"... I guess."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than had Ariella bounced to his side of the couch. She hesitated briefly once she had landed beside him, but then finally she wiggled her torso behind him, holding her hands in close to her chest.

"Is this okay?"

"I guess."

He still couldn't figure out her motivations, but at least she had warned him instead of just plopping herself (partially) behind him without warning. He wouldn't want to be held responsible for how he might have reacted if she had surprised him.

A soft puff of air left her lips, like a gasp of "Ah." Saeran's ear twitched, but he said nothing. She spoke up again, actually squeezing her words out this time.

"Can I touch you? Ah, your back?"

Saeran could feel the heat radiating off her body in waves. Partially because his body was always cold, and she also tended to be cold; a sudden flustered burst of heat would stick out like black rose in a garden of baby's breath. "I guess."

He didn't want her to make a big deal out of anything, but he still couldn't figure out for the life of him why--

"What the fuck?"

His cry of pain slithered out through clenched teeth like a hiss, and he subconsciously shrank away from Ariella, trying to get out of her grasp.

She yelped and scooted away of her own according, much to his relief. "S-sorry!"

"What was that about? Did you just drive a damn rock into my back?" His minty eyes, usually glassy and apathetic, were now burning with the intensity of the hottest blue flames. He hated lashing out like this, but a caged animal caught in a trap will bare its teeth and claws to defend itself.

"I... I..." Saeran scowled as the pastel princess whimpered and stammered from the other end of the living room. "Your... posture..." She inhaled sharply. "You always... hunch over... I thought... your neck and shoulders... could use... a massage...." Her voice got higher and quieter, until she was practically squeaking at the end of her explanation.

"A massage?" Saeran echoed. His brow furrowed in his frustrated confusion. "What's a massage?"

"Ah... uh..." Ariella stretched her arms out in front of her. "You find... stiff, sore muscles... and pound or rub them... to loosen... them...." She began demonstrating feebly with her shaking hands, making chopping motions and then circling her thumbs rhythmically where he assumed his shoulders were supposed to be. "I'm... not very strong, so--"

"Strong enough," Saeran gruffed, feeling an embarrassed blush rise to his freckled cheeks at the thought of Ariella having enough strength to send him spinning like this.

"Um. Thank you," she murmured, chuckling softly. "Ehe." What an odd woman. "My family... deals with back problems. So I thought... I'd help loosen the knots... in your back."

Suddenly a familiar light began sparkling in her eyes, a telltale sign that she was getting excited about something. A sign that usually spelled trouble for Saeran, who had once thought that nobody on this planet could match his twin's penchant for new projects and bizarre adventures. (Saeran had since realized that he was horribly mistaken, and this glimmer was usually the precursor to another exhausting day.)

"I bet if we fixed your posture, you'd be super tall! How tall are you, anyway, Ranran?"

A cold shock raced through Saeran's body, chilling him to the bone. Murky memories in a thick, intimidating fog, one that he was told to never explore or else face his doom. A chart on a wall, with a brother who was once his reason for breathing--

And even now, the only reason he was forced to stay breathing in this god-forsaken world.

"Don't know. Don't care."

He could tell that his words stung Ariella, who'd turned her head downward and folded in on herself. "Aha. Fair enough. I was just curious... because sometimes you look taller than me, and sometimes you don't, so...."

Before Saeran could shut down her curiosity for good or escape to his room, a door flung open with a resounding slam that cut off both him and Ariella in their tracks.

"My dear brother! How tall are you?"

Saeyoung had made his grand entrance, and if he had overheard Ariella talking about height...

Then Saeran had no hope of escaping.

~~~~~

"Aaaand step aside, please!"

Ariella leaped away from the door post, then spun on her heel to eagerly watch Saeyoung carve a pink notch into the wall. She handed him the tape measure and watched with bated breath as he stretched it out.

"171 centimeters," he announced, and Ariella puffed her chest out proudly.

"Yay!"

"No way," Saeran scoffed, leaning against a nearby wall. "Your hair is so big that it probably added a centimeter. Your idiot husband is just too smitten to tell you otherwise."

Ariella groaned and stomped her foot. "Saeyoung would never rig it for me! He knows I'd rather be honest than tall! Right, my catstronaut?"

"Saeran, come measure me! Then I'll do you!" Saeyoung clearly wanted to avoid the subject. Silently, he mouthed the addition: "Just like we used to."

Saeran let out a grumble of disapproval and turned away. His brother needed to stop living in the past. They weren't those same kids anymore, and they never would be.

And yet...

"If I smack you with the ruler, you asked for it."

Maybe he just wanted the satisfaction of finally being taller.

175 cm. 173 cm.

'He's still bigger,' Saeran thought with a huff, as he rubbed his shoulder after getting Ariella's instructions on how to stand up straight for proper measurement. 'Of course I wouldn't be so lucky.'

But at least he didn't need to stand on his toes anymore to reach his brother's heights.

[natasha-in-space]

Dance with Me

Jaehee/gn!reader;

Fooling around and kissing Jaehee in the rain. That's it, that's the plot.

You should've guessed Jaehee would sit you down for a major musical marathon on your long-awaited day off, especially during such rainy weather. Not that you minded, of course. You just found it a bit silly, how predictable she could be at times without even realizing. It was cute, how she genuinely thought you'd be all surprised, once she put on a musical you heard her rambling about a few times already, to the point where she practically spoiled the entirety of its storyline already. Of course, you acted like you've never heard anything about it. How could you not, when she would get such a huge giddy grin that just set your heart on fire?

Frankly, you would gladly rewatch a single scene of Zen running in the background for hours on end, if it would mean making her eyes sparkle like that.

Was that cheesy? Maybe. Did you care? Of course not.

You yawned, turning your head towards the window, while Jaehee went out to get you two more snacks. Owning a cafe did come with a few convenient perks, one of them being free snacks and sweets to indulge in without a care in the world. But, on a stormy day like this, it was way better to stay indoors and watch the raindrops drum away on the windows. You loved the rain. It was peaceful, in some sense. Especially on a hot summer day. Suddenly, an idea hit you. A somewhat reckless one, but you were willing to give it a shot regardless.

"Hey, Jaehee?" You called out to her, still staring out the window.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go out!"

You could hear her shuffle back towards the living room, a confused look on her features as she placed a new plate of leftover muffins onto the coffee table. "Where? It's pouring out there."

"I know that, silly." You gave her a lighthearted roll of your eyes, grabbing a spare muffin and taking a bite out of it. Lemon flavored. Tasty. "That's the entire point. Y'know, like that dancing scene we just watched. We could recreate it!"

A moment of silence followed, nothing but the sound of your chewing and the rain filling the room. You could practically see the gears in Jaehee's mind slowly turning to put the puzzle together. And, once she did, you were delighted to see her cheeks turning a bit darker shade than they were before.

"But, that's... Won't that be distracting? Besides, I'm-"

"I already know what's on your mind, and don't you even start that with me. You fit perfectly for the role. In fact, you're even prettier in my eyes!" You proclaimed proudly, stuffing the rest of the muffin into your mouth before leaping off of the couch and pulling her along with you. "C'mon! Iff'll bfe phun!"

She laughed along, seemingly deciding to humor your antics yet again. "At least chew down your muffin before you speak! I don't want you to choke!"

Ah, Jaehee Kang. The ever reliable voice of reason. You gave her a thumbs-up with your free hand, following her advice.

By the time you two finally got out of the apartment complex, the rain only grew heavier, instantly getting both of you soaked to the bone. Though, you didn't mind that whatsoever. After all, what fun would there be in playing in the rain without getting absolutely drenched?

You knew Jaehee was feeling a bit embarrassed, so it was up to you to get her to loosen up. So, you decided to just let go. Pretend like there was nobody else around except just her and you. Which... technically wasn't completely wrong, as there were barely any people out during such a heavy pour. You let go of her hand, twirling along happily like you were the main character of the very same musical that you two just watched. Except, you weren't nearly as elegant as him, which you got quickly reminded of, as your foot slipped in a nearby puddle, making you lose your balance with a tiny yelp.

Thankfully, though, a couple of rather sturdy hands caught you by the waist before you could tumble to your fate like an absolute dummy. You gasped as you glanced up at none other than Jaehee herself, staring down at you with wide brown eyes. Looks like she acted without even thinking. Quick reflexes. Is there anything she couldn't do?

"...You know, maybe I should start acting like a complete idiot more often if it means I can get you to catch me like that." You muttered, refusing to stand back up as you just admired the way her hair, wet from the rain, clung to her face. Some part of you wanted to reach up and brush it aside. Which you did. Grinning even further as you saw her cheeks flush bright red under your touch. Looks like you're not so bad at re-creating that scene after all. You'd say, this one was even better.

She steadied you, quickly taking a step back as she now fiddled with a strand of her hair right where you touched it seconds prior. God, she was so adorable, and she didn't even realize it.

"Don't be ridiculous... What if you'd sprain your ankle or something?" She murmured, not meeting your eyes. A fair argument indeed. Though, you just shrugged it off, taking a step closer.

"Well, you caught me, didn't you? I'm pretty sure falling for you is safe." You added that last part cheekily, quickly leaning in and placing a soft kiss on her lips, giggling as she gasped. "You know what other perks there are to playing in such heavy rain?"

She just stared back at you, her cheeks flushed. Oh, how you loved making her all flustered like that. Especially when she couldn't take her eyes off of you. Like you were the only thing she saw. "...What?"

"No one will see us doing this."

And with that, you pulled her in for another kiss, your bodies melting together and keeping each other warm even despite the rain pouring down around you. This was definitely way better than the musical.

[juminhandfs]

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober Day 2: The Clicker-Clack of Knitting Needles

Prompt: Domestic Life / Sweater Weather

Characters: 707 & Saeran & MC

Wordcount: 319

Author's Notes: One of the shortest fics I've ever written, but I didn't think it needed anything more than it has. Slice of life, and all that.

You can also read this on Ao3 if that's more your speed!

Seven looked at his love, MC, curled up on the bunker sofa with an entire pile of yarn spilling off of her lap onto the couch, knitting needles clicking like a machine.

“What are you up to, babe?” He flopped over the back of the couch, cackling as MC gathered up her yarn to make space for him.

“Makin’ something.” She said, moving a marker.

“No duhhhh.” Seven said with a giggle. “But what? It’s in my colooooors.”

MC was in fact working on something that was danger striped.

“Maybe I’m making it for Saeran, did you consider that?”

“In those colors?”

MC made a face at him.

“Yes.”

“Unlikely, babe.”

“Maybe it’s for me.”

“Aww, to match me?! You’re so sweet! That’s still a gift for me.”

MC stuck her tongue out at him and for awhile, silence and the clicker-clack of knitting needles reigned.

“What’s in the box, MC?” Saeran said, looking at the nondescript white garment boxes both he and Seven were holding.

“Yeah, MC, What’s in the boooox?!” Seven asked, referential mischief pouring out of his face.

MC rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you open them and find out?”

The boys grinned and practically tore the boxes open.  Inside were two coordinating but not technically matching sweaters. Seven’s was dark grey and bright yellow diagonal striped, and Saeran’s was black with blue roses and vines all over it.

Both twins squealed like excited toddlers and pulled on their sweaters. MC giggled and pulled out her phone to take pictures, but Saeran had already run off to the kitchen. 

“I’m gonna make mulled cider!!” he called.

MC reached out as if she could retroactively stop him. “But I wanted to take… pictures…”

Seven chuckled, and pulled MC into a hug. “We can take pictures with a big ol’ mug of cider, it’ll be even more festive.”

“Jaehee will be jealous.”

“Nah, it’s not coffee.”

“Mmm. Fair.”

[password-door-lock]

Unknown has a complicated relationship with sleep. 

He's always tired, but he never wants to admit that he needs to sleep. If you try to explain to him that everybody has to sleep at some point, he’ll only get annoyed with you. Who do you think you are to tell him what he needs? The way he sees it, he’s basically a machine anyway, so shouldn’t he at least get the benefits associated with a mechanical existence? But instead, every few days, his body forces him to sleep until his nightmares wake him up. 

He tries to stave it off as long as he can with caffeine, sugar, and cold showers. Sometimes, he’ll ask you to wake him up if he falls asleep in front of his computer— he’s never pleased about it when you refuse, but he also never retaliates. He doesn’t have the energy, and besides— at least he knows that you won’t hurt him or take advantage of his vulnerable state even when he tells you to.

Eventually, though, he has to sleep. He doesn’t like the thought of leaving you alone in the intelligence room when he’s unconscious elsewhere— what if some believer comes in and you say something misguided that makes you wind up in the basement? What if the Savior comes by and decides to question you about Unknown’s inactivity? There are simply too many variables to account for. The easiest solution, of course, is to sleep when you sleep, although it goes without saying that he'll be waking up before you. In Unknown's opinion, you spend far too long just laying there and nowhere near enough time helping him with his revenge.

You try to baby him even on his good nights. You bring him the best, most filling dinners you can throw together with the ingredients in the kitchen; these are usually accompanied by hot beverages to counteract the biting cold of the intelligence room. You’re about the only person (aside from the Savior, of course) from whom he would accept a mysterious drink, but Unknown has to admit that he enjoys the sweet vanilla chamomile that you always serve him. Though his rational mind knows that he can’t afford to take long breaks from his work, his body is soothed by the tea. 

If he’s exhausted enough, Unknown might agree to lay down with his head in your lap and let you play with his hair as he falls asleep. It’s easy for him to spin this position as a power move— obviously, you’re giving him this attention because like him, right? You wouldn't do anything like this for any of those bastards in the RFA. You’re trying to show him affection, to thank him for saving you— Unknown can allow that. Besides, it feels nice, and isn't he allowed to enjoy simple pleasures like this in between finishing his work? It's basically the same thing as eating ice cream or sending cryptic texts in hacked RFA chatrooms.

He likes falling asleep to the sound of your voice. You can even lull him back to sleep after he’s woken up from a nightmare, if you play your cards right. Tell him how good he is while you pet his hair, but don’t you dare breathe a word to him about it when he wakes up in the morning (or, more likely, in the middle of the night). After the fact, he feels a lot less powerful and a lot more pathetic, especially if there was a nightmare involved. The thought of whimpering and whining at you when he wasn’t awake enough to stop himself makes Unknown feel a little sick. Secretly, he's grateful for both your care and your discretion, though you'd never get him to admit it aloud.

He doesn’t want to want any kind of comfort, but the more time he spends with you, the less frequently he refuses when you offer. You might even be able to get him to let you read to him— entertainment as a concept is entirely foreign to Unknown, so it’ll take him a while to figure out what kind of stories he likes to hear. Really, what he likes best is the sound of your voice and the fact that you actually listen when he expresses a boundary or a preference. If you ask very nicely and you’re very lucky, he’ll even let you kiss him on the forehead as he drifts off into dreamland. 

Even if he still only gets a few hours of sleep each night, at least he’s resting better than he was before you came to him.

[starlightlillie]

Shadows and Starlight.

Ray x Reader A desperate night for Ray in Magenta. Slight angst. TW for for hints of SH. Word count: 1222

Thanks for reading xx

The quietness of the evening in Magenta felt oppressive. In the faint glow of lights from the hallway, MC could barely make out the shapes and textures of the strange yet eerily beautiful place that Ray called home. They felt it in their bones: he was hurting again, retreating to that dark place within him where the loneliness and despair consumed every last bit of light.

They had seen Ray disappear like this too often, slipping into the shadows of his own mind, hiding behind the walls he’d carefully crafted over a lifetime of pain. Tonight felt different, though, he’d left suddenly, barely saying a word, his gaze distant and hollow as though something precious had shattered inside him. Unable to bear the thought of him suffering alone, MC searched for him, tracing his path through the corridors until they found the room where he had hidden away.

The door was ajar, a faint beam of light spilling out, barely illuminating Ray’s curled-up form on the floor. He was leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, his head buried between them. He looked so small, so fragile, as though the slightest touch might cause him to break.

"Ray..." MC’s voice was soft, barely a whisper, yet it echoed in the silence.

He looked up, and their heart twisted at the sight of him. His eyes were red and teary, his gaze empty and filled with a kind of desperate sadness that pierced through them. He didn’t flinch as they walked over, sitting down beside him.

They reached out, hesitantly resting a hand on his shoulder. "Ray… please, talk to me. I’m here."

He closed his eyes, a shiver running through him, and for a moment, it looked like he might pull away. But then, almost imperceptibly, he leaned into their touch, allowing himself the tiniest bit of solace. His voice was quiet, a fragile whisper that broke under the weight of his words.

“I don’t… I don’t know who I am anymore, MC. I don’t know what’s real.” His fingers dug into his arms as he spoke, turning white due the pressure, clinging to himself as though he were afraid he might disappear. “I try so hard… I try to be good, to be everything they want me to be. But no matter how much I give… it’s never enough.”

MC felt the pain in his words, a raw, aching sorrow that resonated deep within them. Ray, always so eager to please, always desperate to be loved and accepted, trapped in a world that demanded he sacrifice pieces of himself until there was nothing left.

“Ray...” they murmured, their voice thick with emotion. “You’re enough, just as you are. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

He let out a bitter laugh, his gaze turning downward. "That’s easy for you to say… You, who have light inside of you. I feel like I’m just… an echo, a shadow.” His hands trembled as he spoke, and MC’s heart broke at the sight. “I don’t deserve you. You… you should be free, somewhere far away from this place. Away from me.”

MC shook their head, gently reaching for his hand, entwining their fingers with his. “You’re not a shadow, Ray. You’re real, and you’re here. And I choose to be here with you, no matter what. Don’t push me away… please.”

A flicker of something crossed his face... hope, perhaps, or disbelief. He looked at their joined hands, as though it was the first real thing he’d felt in ages, grounding him in a world that seemed to slip away every time he tried to hold on.

“I’m so tired, MC,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can keep going. Sometimes, it feels like there’s no end to this… this emptiness inside me. Like I’m drowning, and every time I try to breathe, I sink even deeper.”

MC moved closer, wrapping their arms around him, holding him tight as though they could shield him from the darkness he fought against. He stiffened at first, unused to such affection, but slowly, slowly, he melted into their embrace, in that comforting warmth, his head resting against their shoulder, slowly looking to hide in the crook of their neck. He clung to them like they were the last anchor holding him to this world, the last glimmer of hope in a life that had been filled with so much suffering.

They ran their fingers through his hair, soothing him with soft murmurs, their own heart aching with each heavy breath he took. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Ray. I’ll be here… for as long as you need me... as long you allow me to. I also need you, so please... I don't want you to leave me.”

A sob escaped him, unrestrained, and he buried his face in their neck even more, his tears dampening their shirt. He let himself cry, let himself fall apart, the walls he’d so carefully built around himself crumbling under the weight of his grief. And they held him through it all, never once letting go, their presence a quiet, unwavering comfort that reminded him he wasn’t alone, not anymore.

As his sobs quieted, Ray pulled back slightly, looking at them with tear streaked cheeks and a vulnerability that stole their breath away. “Why?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you care so much? I’m… I’m broken, MC. I can’t give you anything but… pain.”

They cupped his face, wiping away his tears with a tenderness that made his heart ache. “You give me more than you know, Ray. You also saved me. And... you don’t have to be perfect. I don’t want you to be perfect. I just want you… as you are.”

He stared at them, his breath hitching as though he couldn’t quite believe their words. Slowly, he brought his hand up to cover theirs, his grip gentle but firm.

“MC…” He swallowed, his voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can promise that things will get better. I don’t know if I can be… the person you deserve. But… I’ll try. For you… I’ll try.”

They smiled, their heart swelling with a bittersweet hope. “That’s all I ask, Ray. Just… don’t give up. Not yet. Not while there’s still so much we could see, so much we could do… together.”

He nodded, a faint glimmer of determination lighting up his eyes, fragile but real. In that moment, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, a sense of purpose, a reason to keep going. Because as long as they were with him, he wasn’t entirely lost. As long as they believed in him, he could find the strength to keep fighting, one day at a time.

Ray leaned forward, resting his forehead against theirs, their breaths mingling in the stillness. “I’ll make it work,” he whispered, his voice fierce despite its tremor. “For you… I’ll find a way. No matter what it takes.”

And in the quiet of Magenta, surrounded by shadows and pain, a single spark of hope ignited, a fragile, flickering light, like the faint light of an star in a cloudy sky, but one that burned bright enough to guide him through the darkness.

[villainfixations]

my friends when I ask anything ever: